


Descent

by NostalgicNerd



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Gen, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Some Fluff, even after reading the book and watching the show I can hardly spell Aziraphale's name, fallen angel stuff, it has the ship but is not focused on the ship, not too graphic but just in case, owies for Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 02:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20056618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NostalgicNerd/pseuds/NostalgicNerd
Summary: "A single slice and the angel was freed from his wings..."A short which mostly concerns Aziraphale. An angst short to which fluff is applied at the end.Not too graphic, but there is a mention of blood and fire so readers be advised.My first attempt at characterizing anyone from Good Omens so hopefully it's not so bad!(Inspired by multiple comics and artworks under Tumblr's Good Omens tag, and especially this one https://pinkpiggy93.tumblr.com/post/186461979082/head-canon-before-the-amegadon-when-aziraphael )





	Descent

A single slice and the angel was freed from his wings like the pigs would eventually be. For that is what the angel was now, a swine that had greedily feasted off the glory of heaven without concern for the ineffable plan but while becoming himself the detonator of the great plan, or so was the thinking of what angels remained. In truth, none of them knew the discernible difference between the two, but that mattered nothing to them. 

Now that the heated blades were put away, soon to be cleansed of once holy blood, the last demon was thrown from the peaks of heaven. They fell at the speed of light, nothing more than a brief streak of red and tarnished white against the newly finished night skies. This particular demon was unsure how they’d come into this situation, but they could hardly think of possibilities. The searing scar at their back was the first priority in their mind, but a pain that would remain forever as a phantom in the rest of their immortal life span. At least, the falling angel managed to think, I hear they have nice plans for a lounge in hell. Of course, hell had no funds at all, and so the lounge never did come into being.

~~~

“So I said, ‘What do you expect me to do with that? Wash the hell into something?’” the speaker paused, chuckling and grinning. The chuckles soon paused too. Something was wrong. Where was the angelic laugh that was supposed to resound around him? Crowley’s gaze flicked around the room, the angel was gone, but how had he not noticed? His senses, after all, were supposed to tell him if something had happened to his best friend. 

A nervous and mindless hiss worked its way from the back of the demon’s throat before he wrenched himself from where he sat and began to search through the bookshop. The store became somewhat of a mess, and he knew Aziraphale would kill him for it, if Aziraphale came back that was. Crowley knew he shouldn’t think like that, he wouldn’t lose his angel again, not if he had anything to do with it. 

~~~

“Crowley? What’s happened?” A groggy angel questioned, blinking his eyes awake. Aziraphale gasped, struggling a bit in the seat where he was restrained. “Gabriel… Michael… lovely day. How’s everyone else?” 

“Glad we’re all finally here. You know Aziraphale, you’re harder to find than we thought you’d be. Like some sort of miracle. Huh,” Gabriel remarked, but it sounded mostly like he was talking to himself.

Either way, Aziraphale replied rather boldly, “Not going to leave me alone after last time?”

“No Aziraphale, we have something else planned for you this time.”

Michael smiled, “And we know this one will work.”

“Michael, I think you should do the honours, please,” Gabriel gestured eagerly toward Aziraphale, which took the blue-eyed angel somewhat aback. For a moment Aziraphale imagined they hadn’t been gesturing at him, instead behind him, but he knew that was just foolish.

Michael gave a bow of her head, taking a graceful step toward the lesser angel so that she may begin somewhat of a less graceful task. In her hand materialized a flaming sword, though this one bore somewhat of a resemblance to the one Aziraphale used to have, it was somehow more elegant and had always belonged to a watchful Michael who always kept the blade on hand. Aziraphale’s gaze was snagged by the flames, and he simply couldn’t take his eyes away from the glow. 

Gabriel took a step back, watching what was to come despite that he had duties to attend to. 

For a moment, there was silence, and then a loud pop followed by a crash. What had happened was quick, yet simple, and neither archangel had anticipated it. While both Michael and Gabriel had succeeded in using their angelic strengths to overwhelm Aziraphale and make his wings appear, they’d not paid attention to the oddly human restraints which had kept Aziraphale from moving. He’d jumped up from his chair just as he thought the fiery blade was about to strike, and the metal chair came crashing down, putting a scratch on the floors which someone would inevitably have to fix. Gabriel seized Aziraphale, gripping his shoulders in a way which would leave a bruise upon each shoulder.

“Hold still or it’ll hurt more than it has to,” Gabriel warned, speaking through his teeth.

Aziraphale stared up at Gabriel, a pleading look in his eyes. Sure he’d never been too close to Gabriel, though he’d tried to be once and was met with the response that angels don’t do friendships instead partnerships, but he had looked up to him. In the early days, everyone seemed to think Gabriel and the other archangels were the type to be. Then again, the angels who envied them were the same ones that were marked as demons. 

Michael certainly thought this was the strangest freeing she’d ever done, but still she cared about her work and intended to complete the job. Her cuts were known to be clean, but that didn’t make them any less painful. She could hardly remember how many former angels she’d “freed” exactly, but she knew it was more than just a couple million. Strange though, they’d all screamed so loudly except for a certain red haired one who was determined not to. However she had seen him trying to hide tears later, and that had brought a smile to her face before she kicked him in the back of the knees and watched him fall.

Now she stared down at Aziraphale, an angel who they’d all believed was just dedicated before realizing he’d been consorting with the enemy for thousands of years. It was an embarrassment for the whole community, but now they’d make an example of the embarrassment. He would be the first “Freed” angel in countless millennia. She raised her blade a second time, this time she knew Aziraphale wouldn’t be going anywhere and the flaming sword swung down with confidence. 

Azirphale’s wings were freed from his body, which was now a disgrace to the heavenly floors it stood on. He made a choking sort of noise, squirming at the feeling of blood pouring down his back which was coupled with burnt and peeling flesh. The choking noise continued on for a few beats, before he finally screamed.

A smell erupted into the air, one he’d managed to avoid all those years ago, the smell of burning angel wings. It was a somewhat sweet smell, a gorgeous irony for the act that caused them to burn. Aziraphale was glad his wings hadn’t been brought before him, or he was sure he would have vomited from the sight of the detachment of one of his own limbs.

“Goodbye, Aziraphale,” the former angel hardly heard Gabriel say through all his hysterics. 

Aziraphale suddenly found himself back in his bookshop. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so happy to see the place, but he also wasn’t sure he felt such dread before. He didn’t want to be seen, he didn’t want anyone to see him without his wings, even if they hadn’t seen him with them before. Aziraphale tried to stand but he toppled over, knocking over a table and falling onto his injuries. He cried out, and quick footsteps replied. 

“Angel…” 

Aziraphale could hear how Crowley was straining not to be emotional. Crowley didn’t think he had the right to be emotional right now, Aziraphale was the one that was hurting, yet Crowley found himself to be infuriated and distressed. Why would they take the love of his life’s wings away? He remembered Aziraphale always took good care of them, he was somewhat proud of them, and now that was gone. 

“I know… I know it hurts. I’m sorry we did this to you too…”

Crowley shook his head. “No. Angel, I'm sorry I got you into this mess.”

Aziraphale smiled weakly. “You didn’t get me into anything, Crowley. I chose to be on our side, and I don’t regret it.”

“Do… do you need ice or something? I’ll get you anything, anything you need.” Crowley wanted to help, of course he did. He loved Aziraphale, he always wanted to help him, he just wasn’t always the best at it. 

“Did you get ice? When you f… sauntered downwards?”

“Ice? Of course not, but this isn’t about me! Aziraphale you need-!”

“Rest. I’ll just get a bit of rest and be just like new when I wake up. Lay next to me will you, Crowley?” He was still on the floor where he’d fallen and blood was still flowing from his wounds, but Crowley didn’t say no; he never seemed to be able to when it came to Aziraphale.

They stayed there for a moment, both of them completely still. “Are you sure that you’re alright, angel?” 

Aziraphale gave a short, quiet laugh. “Of course not. Suppose I’m not much of an angel anymore am I?”

Crowley sat up so that he could look Aziraphale in the eyes. 

“No, don’t say that. I love you, you’ll always be my angel.”


End file.
